


Decades Only Last a Few Seconds

by GrannyNoodle



Series: SBI Foster Family AU (Reader Included!) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Foster Care, Minecraft, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, sbi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrannyNoodle/pseuds/GrannyNoodle
Summary: A decade in the foster care system was not exactly the start she was hoping for, but it was the life 16-year-old Y/N had. After cycling through multiple foster and group homes, she ends up in the care of Mr.Phil Watson, a British man with one American son, and two British boys. Her longest record for a home is 2 months, and she doesn't think Phil will beat it. Damn these people are weird.This trope is so cute, and the amount of SBI foster family fics are criminally low. Reader Inserts are nonexistent, so I figured I'd take a swing at it.
Relationships: ALL PLATONIC, No Romantic Relationship(s), No romance - Relationship, Phil Watson & You, SERIOUSLY THIS IS ALL PLATONIC, Sleepy Bois Inc - Relationship, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF) & You, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) & You, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Tommyinnit & Phil Watson & Original Female Character(s), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & You, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & You
Series: SBI Foster Family AU (Reader Included!) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2107155
Comments: 83
Kudos: 361





	1. Chapter 1: Offices, Car Rides, and Bathrooms

Foster care, Y/N decided, was not fun after a decade. It was a cycle that mirrored that of a clock’s innards. Show up at a foster home,  _ tick _ , stay in the said home for a few weeks,  _ tock _ , cause a scene,  _ tick _ , and end up in the back of a social worker’s car with trash bag luggage,  _ tock _ . It was something she got used to after the first few times, being pulled away either in the dead of night or early morning, and would usually be in either a group home or another foster home by the time dinner rolled around.

But this family was different, she decided.

For one, she had a phone call with her new foster dad, Phil, while he was on his way to pick her up from the social welfare office in the heart of the city. It was a little uncommon, but nothing too weird, seeing as she’s had foster parents do it before. But what was different was when Phil made the caseworker turn off the speaker, and to hand the phone to Y/N. When the phone was handed to her, the caseworker watched her intently to make sure she didn’t insult the man, Phil personally introduced himself to her, stating how excited he was to have another addition to the house.

Phil had gone on to explain, as he was barreling down the highway, about how all three of his kids were like her, all coming from foster care at various points in their lives. He had three boys, named Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy, all of whom were equally ‘excited’ (she used the term lightly, seems like he was only in it to get money from the state) to have her in the family. He went on by saying he had a room ready for her, that the two of them could go out tomorrow to get stuff for said room, only briefly pausing when Y/N gave some sort of confirmation that she was indeed listening to him.

And now here she was, waiting for the man to eventually arrive, sitting in the golden rays of the dimming sun next to the window. A few people had passed through the office, whether to get papers or to simply chat with the caseworker sitting across from her, but no one paid any attention to the lonely girl in the chair, who was clutching the mouth of the trash bag with her hands. Her feet were bouncing, legs shaking as she thought of ways she would run from Phil’s house, once she eventually got there. Her mind wandered to the possibilities of her living conditions, imagining rat droppings, busted windows, and pee-stained carpets. Phil already had 3 kids, and the conditions of the homes that had more than two kids were usually horrid. So how in the world was Phil approved to foster a fourth kid?

A knock sounded at the door, the caseworker giving a ‘come in’ before the door creaked open. Y/N had just assumed that it was just another assistant coming in to ask for a form, or to chat for a few minutes, but that was interrupted when a man who wasn’t wearing formal clothing entered the room, his body being slightly reflected by the window.

“Sorry about being late, traffic was horrible in the city.” The man replied, standing awkwardly as he closed the door behind him. She had taken to looking at him, observing the green theme he had, and the white and green bucket hat that covered his blonde hair. She squinted her eyes, watching as he shook his hand with the caseworker, and then extended his hand towards me. “I’m Phil, by the way, and I’m assuming you’re Y/N?” He asked, his eyes meeting the girl. She awkwardly extended her arm, grasping his huge hand as she gave a small shake.

“Yes.” She replied bluntly, wanting to get this over with already. Phil surprisingly wasn’t awkward with this interaction, his smile becoming more prominent when she spoke. Guess he was used to the silent treatment. He sat down in the chair next to Y/N, patiently folding his hands as her case file was pulled up on the monitor pointed towards the two of them. The sun was now barely peeking over the buildings, but that didn’t stop Phil’s excited chattering ringing through the cramped office.

Another thing she found odd about the man was his insistence that  _ she _ be involved in any discussions they had about her. As the caseworker would go over her file, Phil would occasionally look over to her, asking for clarification on a few points. I mean, who better than the person it’s about? She always gave one or two worded answers, annoyance written on her face when they eventually started to cover her “disobedient tendencies”. She scoffed at a particular instance, one where she got 2 weeks probation in the group home after she had a fistfight with a boy her age about a year ago.

“Is there something you’d like to add?” The caseworker asked, her voice holding a slight edge. “Yeah, you gonna mention that the bitch tried to steal my underwear?” Y/N sneered, crossing her arms as she slumped back in her chair. “Were you going to mention that?” Phil asked the social worker, his eyebrows furrowing in anger. Not at Y/N, but the other woman in the room, something Y/N found odd. She had pulled that stunt at one of her fostering meetings, the foster parents’ response being “Well, you must have egged him on!” 

She didn’t stay a full week at that home.

Needless to say, the meeting didn’t last long after that. After wrapping up her case file, and handing a copy to Phil, he was standing at the now opened door, waiting for Y/N to exit the room before he did. She grabbed the trash bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she walked out of the room, eyeing a beefy guy with long pink hair that sat in the chair next to the door. Next to him sat a skinny blonde boy, enthusiastically playing a game on his phone. “Boys, this is Y/N, she’ll be staying with us. Y/N, this is Techno and Tommy.” Phil introduced, motioning to each boy as he hounded them out of their seats.

“Hullo.” Techno greeted, standing up as he grabbed his bag that sat at his feet. He easily towered over her and even had a few inches on Phil. He wore sunglasses inside the building, something that Y/N didn’t question too much. Who knows, maybe he had an eye condition? The second boy, Tommy, had already stood up, shoving his phone in his back pocket, about to take off if it weren’t for the glares Techno and Phil gave him. He rolled his eyes, turning towards Y/N.

“What’s up, woman?” He asked, a horrified gasp sounding behind Y/N. Phil sounded tense. “Tommy don’t-” “What’s up bitch baby?” Y/N interrupted, a snort coming from Techno as Tommy’s face proceeded to turn red. “You bitch!” He shouted, receiving a ‘shh!’ from Phil before all four of them piled into the elevator, starting the descent down to the lobby.

Once the group got towards the car, Phil started to make seating arrangements “Tommy, Techno, you two sit in the back seat. Y/N, you can sit in the front with me, how does that sound?” Phil asked, electing to ignore the whining of his youngest, Tommy. “That’s fine, I guess.” She answered, choosing to savor how she wouldn’t have to sit squished in between two rowdy boys. “Here, let me take your bag for you.” Techno offered from her left, already moving towards the bag slung over her shoulder. Her eyes widened, her breathing rapidly increasing. 

“NO!” She shouted, jumping back a few steps, her voice echoing through the nearly silent parking lot. Techno slightly recoiled in surprise, not expecting the quiet girl to suddenly shout so loudly. Phil clapped a hand on his shoulder, the smile on his face slightly drooping, but never leaving. “That’s okay Y/N, you can just keep your bag with you upfront.” He reassured, beckoning with his other hand for her to come back near them. She took a few beats, looking in between the welcoming eyes of Phil, and the awkward Pinkette next to him, before eventually deciding that running might not be the best solution.

She bit the inside of her cheek, her cheeks turning a bright red as she mustered up the courage to slink her way towards the group, and she was led to the passenger’s side of the car, the door being graciously opened by Phil. She hauled the bag inside, plopping inside once she was certain it wouldn’t be going anywhere else besides from between her legs, Phil closing the door behind the girl. He jogged over to the driver’s side, hopping in to escape the bitter cold as they all buckled up.

“So, how about dinner?” He asked, receiving whoops from the backseat.

\---

Dinner was as filling as someone could expect. They stopped at a McDonald’s, all of them opting for burgers, saved for Y/N’s safe choice of Chicken Nuggets. She was surprised when they all opted to park the car and eat right then and then, a definite change from the last few homes she had the pleasure of gracing her presence with. After they had finished their meals, they went and dumped their trash in the garbage bins.

They were now on the highway, coasting down what Y/N could assume as ‘really freaking fast, but not breaking the law’ mph. Phil had told her about thirty minutes back that it would be a long trip back, seeing as they lived in the country, and to get comfortable. Tommy and Techno had taken to playing on their phones in the back, the sounds of pits, and what she could assume to be damage being taken sounding through the air. The radio had some R&B on, a personal favorite of Phil’s she would soon discover.

Between the full stomach, the quiet ambiance, and the heat blasting on her face and ass (heated seats, she had delightfully discovered 15 minutes back), she didn’t notice the way her eyes had slowly started to droop. She was nestled into her seat, hands in her hoodie pockets, eyes turned towards the window, watching the trees rush by, and the occasional car trying to pass them.

Her mind blared warning messages, reminding her that she was in a car with strangers who looked like could easily outrun and outmaneuver her, but she was so tired. The trees turned into a blur of dark hues, the cars becoming shooting stars. Her head slipped on the glass, giving a soft ‘thud’ as she made contact with it. Phil heard the noise, and quickly glanced over, noticing how her eyes were closed, soft exhales coming from her mouth every so often. He smiled, his eyes now focused back on the road, looking occasionally on his sons and his foster daughter. 

“You two.” Phil addressed softly, watching how Techno and Tommy looked up from their phones, only Techno noticing the now sleeping girl next to Phil. “Remember what I said about the new family, alright? I think she’s a perfect fit with us, and I would really appreciate it if you two behave while she settles.” Techno and Tommy nodded, a small smile gracing Phil’s face at the confirmation “Yeah Big Man, we won’t be too rowdy!” Tommy adds, brightly smiling at the two before aiming his eyes back down at his phone, Minecraft already unpaused.

It was about another thirty of uneventful driving before Phil pulled up to their house, Techno and Tommy quickly hopping out of the car and slamming the door shut seconds after Phil turned off the engine. Before Phil could scold them for the slams, he saw Y/N quickly stir awake, blinking her eyes in confusion as she took in her new surroundings. “Hey sorry about the slam, Techno and Tommy aren’t exactly the quietest.” He apologized, watching as she rubbed her eyelids wearily.

“ ‘S okay.” She mumbled, unbuckling her seatbelt as she gently pushed open the car door. She grabbed her bag, choosing to throw it over her other shoulder as she and Phil made their way to his house. She followed tentatively behind him, watching his every move. Her eyes scanned the front of the house and the forest that surrounded it, listening to the wind rustling what little leaves remained on the trees. At a particularly hard gust, she shivered, the hands that gripped the bag begging for the warmth the car gave them.

The two stepped into the house, the heat beckoning them inside. “Normally we put our shoes over there, but you can keep your shoes with you.” Phil said as he slipped off his shoes, shoving them next to the pair of sneakers she had seen Tommy wearing earlier. “You probably won’t see Wilbur until the morning, he’s usually out late on Saturdays.” He had motioned for her to step further inside the house, stepping into a living room and sitting on a loveseat. Y/N followed suit, sitting down on the couch adjacent to the love seat, putting the bag on the floor next to her. Phil had long taken off his coat and was now looking at Y/N, a patient look in his eyes. “I figured we could go over some household rules and a tour before going off to bed,” Phil said, waiting for confirmation to continue.

Rules were always a tricky situation. This would be the thing that told Y/N if her stay was going to last a couple of weeks or a couple of months. He would probably put in some normal rules, at least normal for the foster families she’s been to, like no eating outside of meals and no speaking unless spoken to. “Alright, so the first thing I want to get out of the way is that yes you can swear. I know that was a big one with Tommy.” He reminisced, putting his palm in his right hand. “Just no slurs and shit, mate.”

Mate? That was a new one. 

“Uh, second is there’s no set bedtime. Everyone just does what they can, I usually go to bed at around 11.” He was looking up now, counting things off with his hands, lost in a list in his mind. It was pretty lax for the most part. She could have food in her room, and could even lock the doors if she so chose.

“Follow me, I’ll show you where all the rooms are.” He had already stood up, back turned as he started towards the kitchen. She grabbed her bag, following as he started motioning towards a door in the kitchen. “That right there’s the pantry, everything is good for everyone unless there’s a sticky note with a name on it.” He had started up the stairs, waiting at the top for her to clamor up. Once she did, she took notice that she was now in a cramped hallway, with no windows in sight. She could work with this.

“And here are all the rooms! My room is down the end of the hall, but I’m sure you could tell from the decorations.” Phil had gestured to a door with “Phil” engraved in it, decorated with little block pigs, bees, and trees. She also noticed there were green feathers glued to it as well. The other doors had similar designs, a name with stickers and nicknacks adorning them, save for one door. It was on the left, just past Techno’s room, and right next to Phil’s. Of course, she was put next to, what she presumed, to be the strongest people in the house.

“I’m sure you guessed that blank door is your room.” Phil had broken her thought chain, squeezing ahead of her to open the door for her, ushering her into the room. “The bathroom is at the end of the hall, the door is usually opened so it’s hard to miss, mate. Tomorrow though we’ll go out and get stuff for your room, how does that sound?” He asked, leaning slightly against the doorframe, watching how Y/N started to spectate her room.

She gave a quiet nod, looking back at the man, who was looking at her with contentment. “If you need anything, you can always knock on my door, or Techno’s; Lord knows he’s up until the wee hours in the morning.” He had crossed the threshold into the room, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder, looking for any negative reaction. She slightly stiffened up, and the hand was immediately removed. “Welcome to the Craft family, Y/N.” He bid goodbye, giving one last smile before exiting the room, closing the door gently behind him. She took a second to stare at the door, observing the wood before turning back to her new room.

It was decently bare. There was a double bed in the corner of the room, neutral-toned sheets and a quilt already folded back, the pillows inviting her to bed. There was a dresser directly across the bed, discovering it was empty and barren when she slid open the drawers. She didn’t bother filling it, choosing to shove the trash bag in the corner. Phil was crazy if he thought she was gonna unpack, or even change into nightclothes. There was a desk a few feet to the left of the dresser, fitted with a lamp, an old office chair, and pencil holders. A window sat on the wall between the bed and the dresser, Y/N finding herself checking to see if it was locked, surprisingly, it wasn’t, opening with a loud squeak, letting in the bitter November air. She quickly closed it, longing for warmth

She sat down on the bed, sinking into a foreign softness, her back relaxing slightly at the reduced tension. Despite how wary she was of the new house and family, she found that her weary mind was teetering between the land of the waking and the sleeping. Y/N swung her feet on the bed after sliding off her sneakers, pulling a pillow down with her as she settled on sleeping half above the covers, her legs being covered by the sheets and quilts. Just a couple of minutes, she reassured herself. A couple of minutes of watching her eyelids, and she’d be back up. She exhaled, and slowly slipped off into her mind.

\---

It was too warm for her legs. Shit. She woke with a start, confused about her surroundings, breathing heavily. Tears pricked at her eyes, her breathing labored, hands clamped over her mouth. The quilt had slid down to her stomach- wait, when did she pull it up past her waist? The warmth she felt by her legs started to get cold, and  _ wet _ , tears starting to leak before she realized what she had done. 

She had peed the bed after a nightmare, like a fucking toddler. Phil was going to be fucking pissed at her, the first night in and she had already ruined a fresh pair of sheets, possibly the mattress. She quickly scrambled from the bed, unceremoniously falling on the floor, a loud ‘thump’ ringing through the bedroom. Y/N was full-on crying, little sobs escaping her mouth as she remembered the last time this happened. She had to sleep outside, in the snow when she was 10, and she did not feel like repeating that experience. She could wash the damn sheets but she didn’t know where the laundry room was, or even if they had one. Oh, she was so fucked, so screwed over fuck fuck fuck fuck-

A knock had pierced the air, frantic eyes looking back at the door in horror. “Y/N, are you alright?” Phil had asked from the other side, sleep lacing his voice. She was cross-legged on the floor, nodding her head, not remembering he couldn’t see her. Her hands grasped her arms, holding tightly, finger beds bruising her arms. “Y/N?” Phil had knocked again, slightly opening the door, half expecting to see the teenager curled in her bed, sleeping soundly.

What he got was Y/N sitting on the floor, still in her day clothes, staring at the door horrified. From how she was sitting, Phil could see a wet stain running down her legs, and a quick look at the bed confirmed his suspicions. “Shit.” He muttered, fully stepping into the room. “Wilbur and Techno you can go back to bed, please don’t come out until I say so, okay?” Phil asked, crossing into the threshold of the room, heading straight for the crying girl.

He kneeled in front of Y/N, making sure not to touch her. “Y/N, you’re okay.” Phil had reassured, giving a coaxing smile as he reached out his hand towards her. She stared at the hand, and then back at Phil, eyes jumping back and forth before she decided on what to do. “I fucking pissed the bed though.” She cried, curling more into herself as she stared at the floor, her eyes looking like they would bulge out of her head. “It’s okay though! I’m not going to hurt you! Wilbur did the same thing his first night.” He comforted, his hand finally making contact with her clenched shoulders, a cry arousing from her mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.-” She had started to mumble, slightly rocking back and forth in hopes of providing some comfort to herself. She started to close in on herself, no longer verbally responding to whatever Phil was saying in hopes of comforting her. “I’m going to lift you by the arms now, okay? How about we run you a nice bath?” He asked, only making a move for her underarms after she gave a meek nod. He lifted her, her legs unfolding as she shakily stood up, a nonexistent breeze making her shiver from how cold she was. Phil had started to gently guide her out of the room, taking note of the trash bag in the corner of her room. 

Once he had confirmed no one was in the hallway, he led her towards the bathroom, missing the curious eyes from Wilbur’s room that were peeking from the crack of the door. The two were now at the end of the hall, and in the bathroom, where Y/N sat on the toilet seat as Phil started a warm bath for her, dipping his hand in it occasionally to make sure it wasn’t too hot for her. Once it had reached an optimal level, he had stood up, pulling a towel from beneath the sink and placing it over the towel rack next to the tub.

He also placed a washcloth on the edge of the tub, making sure Y/N could see and reach for it properly. “You can use any of the body washes if you so wish. Personally, I’d go for Tommy’s, it smells like Lavender.” He directed, watching as she nodded. He smiled sadly at her, knowing exactly what was going through her mind. “I’ll wash and change the sheets on the bed, you don’t have to worry about that.” He had made his way to the door, about to close it behind him when a voice had stopped him.

“Phil.” Her voice was quiet, but still powerful enough to make Phil whip his head back. She stared at him, not opening her mouth, the words dying on her tongue. Phil understood the message. “Anytime Y/N.” He smiled and closed the door behind him, the heated vapor disappearing from him. What can you say, the man will take what he can get.

By the time Phil had finished changing the sheets, drying the mattress, and quietly sliding a fresh outfit into the bathroom, Y/N had finished her bath. She exited the bathroom, flicking off the lights as she dried her hair with her towel. Feet crept silently down the hall, praying that no one would rouse from their non-existent sleep, naive to the eyes staring at her from the eldest child’s room. She pushed open her door, surprised to see Phil sitting in her desk chair, hands neatly folded as he greeted the girl with open arms. She dumped the now used towel on the dresser, silently sitting on the bed as she watched Phil make his way to her.

No words were exchanged as she slipped into bed, not resisting the hand that gently guided her to lay on the mattress, the same hands that pulled the bedding past her arms and up to her chin. He sunk down on the bed, leaning over to place a hand on her arm as he watched her slowly slip deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. He quietly slipped out of her room, closing the door with a soft click as he made his way back to his bedroom, making a mental note to take care of the sheets in the morning.

It might take some adjusting, but Y/N was definitely going to fit in with the Craft family.


	2. Bye Bye! (Baby Blue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah sex is cool and all, but have you ever wrapped yourself in a Better Homes and Gardens Egyptian Cotton Baby Blue Blanket?

Embarrassment was what woke her up; the alarm clock that sat next to her head only egging on the flush that spread on her cheeks. Through blurry lids, she checked the L.E.D numbers, cringing slightly at the constant beeping before gently poking the biggest button. In bright red letters, it read “11 a.m”, a surprise for the teen. A family of late risers, she supposed. It wasn’t exactly the most unwelcome thing, seeing as some past wake up calls have been banging on the walls, the sun not even peeking over the horizon. 

Shame from the previous night’s events hung over her shoulders like boulders, weighing her down as she gripped the dark sheets, cringing softly at the feeling of softness in between her fingers. She couldn’t believe it, she thought as she slowly sat up, she probably pissed Phil off from how late it probably was. What had compelled him to not make her sleep on the floor was beyond her understanding.

Once again, not complaining.

After hastily changing into day clothes and slipping on her socks and shoes, ignoring the ‘no shoes policy’ she slipped out into the hallway, trodding lightly down the stairs. She could hear light chatter, occasional chuckles floating through the air. Peeking her head slightly past the wall of the last step, she peered towards the kitchen, seeing the familiar figure of Phil leaning on the counter, a mug in his hands, talking to a tall lanky figure who held his mug. The tall boy threw his head back in light laughter, Phil giving a small laugh of his own at a joke unable to reach Y/N’s ears.

She spared a glance towards the living room, noting how neither Tommy nor Techno was sitting on either of the couches, and a look towards the kitchen table confirmed they weren’t even on the first floor of the house. She picked at the skin by her nails, nerved by the absence of the two teens. Y/N had come to this conclusion three years ago; people were only good to you if you could  _ see _ them. In all of her previous foster houses, she could always count on finding a spot in the living room or the hallway, perfect for watching. Watching gave her the security she so desired. If she could see them, they couldn’t surprise her.

“Mornin’.” A voice from behind her startled her, and she found herself launching towards the ground floor, the loud thump she made as she landed alerting the two males in the kitchen. Her eyes stayed glued to the man who surprised her, watching as the pinkette stared right back at her as he made his way down the wooden steps. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.” Techno apologizing, his monotone voice not once showing any resemblance of apology. She nodded, standing from her slightly crouched position as she turned towards the kitchen, making eye contact with the stranger.

“Good morning Y/N! I hope you slept well.” Phil greeted, not moving a muscle as Y/N shuffled towards the kitchen. She nodded towards the blonde silently, wary of the brunette that now stood 5 feet away from her. “Y/N, that’s Wilbur, he’s my oldest. Wilbur, this is Y/N, she’ll be staying for a while.” Phil introduced, watching as Wilbur extended his hand towards her, looking for a handshake.

Reaching her hand out after a few seconds, she slightly scrunched her face at the skin to skin contact, pulling back as soon as possible, tucking her tightly clenched fists back into her hoodie pocket. 

“Nice to meet you.” Wilbur curtly greeted, sliding his hands back to his warm mug. “You as well.” She exchanged, giving Wilbur an equally tense look, only looking away when Phil awkwardly cleared his throat. “So I figured you and I could run out to the shops and pick up some room and school supplies, yeah?” Phil asked, taking a tentative sip of coffee. Y/N slightly nodded, eyeing the fruit bowl that sat adjacent to her. 

Phil took notice, chuckling lightly at how intensely Y/N had been staring at the Granny Smith apples that sat on top. “You can take an apple if you want, you don’t have to ask.” Phil chimed, blue eyes meeting E/C irises before Y/N quickly swiped her hand out, snatching an apple as she sat on the barstool on her right, ignoring the scoff Wilbur directed towards her. 

Breakfast was silent for the most part, the occasional ‘ting’ of Techno’s spoon hitting his bowl of cereal and the crunch of an apple bite from Y/N floating through the air. Y/N was slightly grateful for the silent meal, the buzz of electrical appliances being a welcomed distraction from the previous night’s situation. Nothing could be done about the swarming thoughts, egging on the anxious ache that pounded in her chest. She was just waiting for the inevitable yelling Phil would give, the extra chores or physical punishments she would receive for wasting perfectly good sheets. Maybe the reason he wasn’t doing it now was that he didn’t want his sons to ‘share in on the fun’, as one of her foster moms had said to her before.

After tossing her core away, and Phil waving goodbye to his sons, the two had departed from the house, cruising through the neighborhood in heavy silence. Any second now, she thought, any second now the rug of slight safety will be pulled away, and she’ll get a real taste of what Phil’s ‘punishment land’ was like. 

“You alright mate?” Phil had broken the silence, sparing a quick glimpse at Y/N before he focused on the road again. “You’re a bit quiet this morning.” The teen nodded her head, wishing to just get this over with. “I’m fine.” She mumbled, slightly turning her body away from the man, curling in more on herself. “If it’s about last night, I’m not mad or anything.” He reassured, finally taking the time to look at her as they stopped at a red light. Y/N didn’t have anything to say; if it were up to her, she would just melt into the Upholstery, never to be seen again.

“If it helps any, nobody outside of the car knows about it.” Phil tried his best to comfort the girl, he did. Y/N slouched further into the seat, bouncing her leg anxiously as the car sailed onto the highway.

Phil would be ready to talk when she was.

\---

The two were now standing in the bedding department at Walmart, a basket filled with different necessities like girl products, some notebooks, along with a few snacks Phil had her pick out, his reasoning being “Everyone has snacks in their room.” Y/N could now cross ‘Locking her in her room’ off the list of possible punishments he could choose to give. “You can choose any comforter, duvet, sheets, whatever you want that fits your style.” Phil had directed, gesturing with his hands to the rows and columns of colorful bedding. 

She had slowly made her way down the aisle, looking at various designs and opening the containers, sticking her fingers in them to feel the texture. She eventually chose a set of off white sheets and a pink comforter set. Generic, but safe choices, just for when Phil would eventually rid of her and possibly replace her with another foster daughter. Besides, maybe she didn’t mind the color pink too much, alright? Phil hadn’t questioned her choice, but rather he smiled at her decision. “See, I knew you were a light pink person!” He had commented, starting to pull out of the aisle before abruptly halting, an even bigger smile replacing his face.

“Y/N, do you prefer stuffed animals or cozy blankets?” He asked, leaning on the bar of the cart. “Blankets, I guess.” She shrugged, rubbing her shoes against the shiny flooring. “Hell yeah mate, we can work with this!” Phil said, fully turning the cart around before gesturing for the teen to follow. They traveled down a few isles, occasionally dodging mothers with cranky children, before finding themselves face to face with a specific brand of blankets: Better Homes and Gardens, and Walmart.

“You can choose any of these blankets.” Phil started, already looking at blankets himself. “Personally, I’d go with Better Homes and Goods; real soft, y’know?” Y/N stepped forward, taking her time opening each packaging, rubbing her fingers on the blankets before shaking her head in disgust. Around 13 blankets into the process, and what she also assumed to be Phil’s waning patience, a particular blanket had finally not made her shiver. “Egyptian Cotton, huh?” Phil asked, already making a move to put the blanket in the basket.

Y/N almost shrieked in horror when she saw the $35 price tag and made a move to stop him. “What’s wrong?” Phil asked, stopping his motion when she slammed her palm on the surface of the plastic. “Too expensive.” Y/N shook her head, going to place her other hand underneath the cover before Phil had gently yanked it away. “Price for this shit doesn’t matter to me.” Phil had to begin to place it in the basket, before what Y/N had asked made him pause dead in his tracks.

“Then can I at least hold it?” For the first time since her new placement, she had spoken a full, complete question. Phil felt giddy. “Sure, it’s all yours.”

By the time the two had reached the car after checkout, bags already in the trunk, her full hand was in the package, gripping the cool baby blue fabric between her fingers. Phil had offered to take the blanket out of the plastic, but the idea was immediately shut down by the shake of the teen's head, eyes locked on the cotton. The hands never left the fabric, not until she had to start decorating her room a half-hour later.

The insecurities were still there, but at least she had a blanket to keep her warm.

\---

Y/N had made the executive decision that she did not like Wilbur. She did not like how he acted like he was king of the world, or how much of a pious asshole she was. Just because he was the second child Phil adopted did NOT make beanstalk special. Oh, did she mention she didn’t like him?

Family dinner wasn’t a foreign concept to Y/N, almost every house and home had some form of it at least once a week. And at least once, without fail at every single house, there would be a fight during the dinner, a good 80% of them being between Y/N and whatever asshole pissed her off. This family dinner quickly proved to fall into that 80% category, the main act being between Wilbur and her.

Dinner had started with what she considered normal. Phil had gone with an Italian theme for the night, serving spaghetti, garlic bread, and tall glasses of milk to wash down their meal. Tommy had gotten the ball rolling in terms of conversation, yakking on about how great his day online was, and how much fun he had playing his video games with his friend ‘Tubbo’. Techno was even talking, butting in every few minutes to add clever commentary whenever he saw fit. Wilbur was silently staring at his plate, taking bites from his plate every so often.

Phil had looked across the table to Y/N, who was also staring down at her plate, taking small bites as she quietly chuckled along to Tommy’s story, a comfortable silence hanging over the table before Phil spoke up. “So Y/N, are you ready to start school tomorrow?” He asked, wanting to gauge how her opinion was towards academia. “Ready, I guess.” She murmured, taking a bite of noodle from her fork.

“You should really answer him correctly.” Wilbur chimed in, taking a sip from his glass. Before Phil could chastise him, Y/N had already gone for the defense. “At least I support Tommy’s humor, unlike you Mr.Stoic” She bounced back, eyes never leaving the plate. Wilbur mumbled something under his breath, everyone unable to hear it. “I’m sorry?” Phil asked, cocking his head to the left like a child. Wilbur mumbled something again, only slightly louder. “You should answer him correctly.” Y/N mocked, finally looking up to the hunched form of Wilbur.

“Shut the fuck up bitch.” He insulted, a gasp sounding from Phil. “Wilbur-” “At least I don’t have the posture of a humpback whale.” Y/N bit back, a small snicker rising from Tommy. “Y/N please-” Phil begun, once again being cut off. “At least I don’t piss the bed at 16.” Wilbur was now smirking at her, whatever trace of a smile Tommy had falling from his face. Y/N slid down to her fork in her hand, an idea rapidly forming in her head. “Hey Wilbur, ever wonder why I got kicked out of my last house?” Y/N asked, fork in a prime stabbing position.

Her thoughts echoed in her brain, encouraging her to commit an act of violence. Phil was nice, he’d hold good standing in her memory when he kicks her out for stabbing Wilbur. Make him bleed like how her father bleed the week before she entered the foster care system. It’d be a nice change, maybe she can finally say she went to Juvie, or even prison if the courts saw fit.

Before she could make her graceful leap across the table, however, the table was pushed harshly in her and Wilbur’s direction by Techno, trapping their stomachs between the backs of their chairs and the table. Neither had any wiggle room, seeing as the backs of their chairs had been pushed against the walls. This didn’t stop Y/N from flinging her fork at Wilbur, barely missing him as he retaliated with his fork, only for it to be caught in the air by Tommy, who proceeded to give a ‘whoop’ and exclaiming how sick of a catch that was.

“Both of you need to stop now!” Phil had yelled, slamming his hands on the table. Y/N flinched from the slam, wincing as Wilbur started to yell. “Well, it was her fault! If her dumbass wasn’t in the system we wouldn’t be dealing with this!” He defended, not missing the hardened glare he had directed at him. “Tommy, Techno, go up to your rooms, and take Y/N with you.” Phil barked, Tommy already scrambling out of his chair as Techno eased the pressure he was giving the table, allowing Y/N to slip out of her seat and to dart up the stairs.

She ignored Tommy trying to stop her, closing and locking her door once she entered her room, sliding down the wood on the floor. Her head was in her hands, and she found herself fighting back tears. Not even 24 hours in and she managed to majorly fuck up two times. She looked towards the window, seeing the trees being torn apart by the wind blowing against the house. She was never a flight risk, choosing to deal with her problems head-on, but the thoughts still swirled in her head. 

She stalked towards the window, expecting it not to budge after unlatching it, but was genuinely surprised when it fully slid open. Grateful for the new backpack and snacks, as well as a tiny bag of cash she had saved up over the years, she packed the bare essentials, climbing out of the house and onto the slanted first story roof. Shivering from the cold, Y/N had made it to the edge, preparing to hop down before a voice above her froze her in her tracks.

“Y’know that’s a 15-foot drop, right?” Techno’s monotone voice sliced through the air, making Y/N whip her head back to see Techno already sitting on the roof, crisscrossed. “The fuck do you want?” She asked, preparing to ignore what he said. “Eh, just relaxing in the moonlight.” He shrugged, hands at his sides. “Liar. It’s shitty weather out here.” She responded, making a move to slide down the roof. “Says the girl who was about to run away in 15-degree weather.” He had a good point.

She stayed quiet, unmoving from her spot on the roof. “If you’re gonna run away, at least wait until the spring, where you won’t freeze to death outside,” Techno suggested, already standing up to move back to his room. “Or don’t, and get hypothermia. Don’t really care. I’ll be in my bedroom, playin’ Minecraft if you wanna follow.” He offered, back turned to her as he climbed into the window of his bedroom. 

She stayed in that spot on the roof for a few seconds, the bitter chill of the wind causing her to chuck her bag in her room, closing the window, and climbing into Techno’s bedroom. She’d try again when it wasn’t freezing outside. 

“What the fuck?!” Tommy had screamed from Techno’s bed, throwing his controller after being startled by the teenage girl crawling into his older brother’s room. “Shut the fuck up.” She flatlined, sitting at the corner of Techno’s bed, watching as he grabbed two controllers from his T.V stand, offering one to Y/N as he sat between her and Tommy. “No thanks, I have no idea how to play.” She commented, Tommy giving a loud gasp at this new revelation.

“Let’s fucking change that then woman!” He declared, demanding Techno to load up a new world that all of them could start anew on. Maybe, just this once, she could forget about the impending beating she was probably going to receive for wanting to stab Wilbur. She stayed on the bed, slowly learning controls of a game called ‘Minecraft’, chuckling whenever Tommy would die in the dumbest ways possible. Fatigue pricked the corners of her eyes, but the blue light from the screen, as well as the fun she and her foster brothers were having, was enough to quell the urge to succumb to sleep.

She’d have some fun while this lasted.

Later that night, long after Phil had sent Wilbur off to bed, he crept through the house, opting to check on Techno before going to Y/N's room. Knocking lightly, he peeked his head when he heard a muffled 'come in'. He looked towards the bed, seeing Techno stuffed between the sleeping bodies of Tommy and Y/N, controllers in both sets of hands. "This isn't going to be a normal thing," Techno commented, Phil suppressing the urge to laugh. "Of course it isn't. Just make sure those two get to their beds tonight." After receiving confirmation from Techno, he silently closed the door, sighing slightly, his shoulders sagging.

Challenges were arising, but Phil was certain Y/N was ready for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, y'all took my last chapter note to heart and fed my ego! Please, continue.  
> Also, if you saw that Australian Phil in the description, no you didn't <3  
> Word Count: 3.1k


	3. In my defense, officer, I thought it was an EGGcelent throw.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of school, what could go wrong?  
> Nothing in Y/N's book!

A knock rattled her out of the void, a voice dripping in exhaustion calling out to her. “Y/N! It’s time to get up for school!” Phil called out, and she could hear him shuffling to the other doors, knocking and calling out names. After a second of laying on her back, staring at the ceiling with tired eyes, she slowly sat up, caring to glance at the clock that sat neatly beside her bedside lamp she had gotten yesterday, the time reading out ‘7 A.M’ in bold lettering. Right, she was starting school today. Gross.

It wasn’t like Y/N hated school, it was quite the opposite. She enjoyed the welcome distraction, being able to fully submerge herself into whatever lay on her desk and forget about whatever was troubling her that day. Well, rather she could  _ try _ and clear away her troubles, it’s only failed her a few times. And the ability to blend in with the surrounding crowd, not too smart to get called on, and not too stupid to get sent to tutoring, didn’t hurt either. 

She silently shrugged on her uniform, a stiff white button-up shirt, a blue sweater vest over it with the school’s emblem over the breast. A gray scaled pleated skirt had covered the end of the shirt and was slightly hidden by the sweater, falling just above the knee with white calf-high socks and black school shoes. She already disliked not being able to wear longer socks, but Phil had reassured her she’d soon be able to wear tights once it started snowing.

Fun fact; apparently it snowed in this city, and heavily accumulated most of the time. Oh, what joy. After slinging her new starch school bag over her right shoulder, teeth and hair already brushed and styled to her liking, she tiptoed down the stairs, hearing the bitch Wilbur and Tommy arguing about when you add milk to cereal. 

“You add it last!” Tommy shouted, Y/N hearing him smashing his fists down. “I don’t think so! It’s too dry that way.” Wilbur bit back, a screech resounding from Tommy once Y/N had shown herself at the base of the stairs. “Y/N! Do you add milk first, or cereal when making a bowl of cereal?” Tommy demanded, looking at her with crazed eyes as she sat across from Tommy, noting how she was now conveniently placed in the furthest seat from Wilbur. “It’s cereal first shitass.” She mumbled, Tommy howling with excitement as she poured Cheerios into her bowl. Wilbur gave off a ‘pft’ of defeat, slumping into his seat as he shoved more cereal into his mouth.

Techno was lounging on the living room floor, back hunched and nose in a book as Phil sat behind him, hands delicately weaving through his hair to creating a secure braid as he was going. He slightly waved to Y/N with both of his hands, giving a smile as she exchanged a tight one back. Y/N wasn’t going to act dumb, she was still waiting for Phil to yell or hit her about last night’s “Operation Fork”, as Tommy lovingly called it. As much as she hated to admit it, Y/N thought Phil was a scary yeller, briefly hearing muffled yells coming from him in between laughing fits from Tommy. For all she knew, that could have only been the beginning. Phil had large hands, perfect for striking.

But as she looked at Wilbur from the corner of her eye, she didn’t see any bruises or marks on his pale skin. Did Phil only hit in areas that could be easy? Those foster parents were especially scary, Y/N having the utmost pleasure of encountering a few in her time in the system. The rest of breakfast remained silent on her end, Wilbur and Tommy were deeply immersed in their debate, and Techno and Phil sat in peaceful silence. It was the moments where she was quiet she feared the most. With Y/N being quiet, it caused questions, and questions caused digging into her mind, peeling sensitive information from her mind. It would only be a matter of time before someone started to ask questions. Y/N nervously picked at the skin next to her nails, small scraps falling to the table. Any second now.

“All right! Techno, I want you to drive Wilbur and Tommy, I’ll drive Y/N this morning.” Phil announced, stretching as he stood up from the couch. Y/N could feel the size of her eyes massively increase, the realization of what was about to happen almost making her lose her breakfast. This was it. Phil was going to scream at her the entire way to school, probably planning on telling her that as soon as she got home, to clean the entire house or stand in the corner on her tiptoes with bare feet, thumbtacks pointing towards her heels in case she stood with her feet planted.

She peeled too hard at her hands, wincing as a tiny drop of blood glistened on the right side of her thumb on her dominant hand. She slowly took care of her dishes, putting them in the sink as Wilbur stored the cereal and milk in their respectful places. Tommy barreled out of the door, a distant plead to Techno and Wilbur to hurry as Phil and Techno grabbed their respective sets of keys, each adorned with little memorabilia. 

Wilbur shoved past her, grabbing his bag and guitar case before exiting, Techno quickly following behind. Phil stood at the door, patiently watching as Y/N crossed the threshold, closing and locking the door behind the two. Y/N barely had any time to watch Techno’s car, a Toyota Corolla, disappear from the front of the house, turning the corner and disappearing behind the trees. The blond and H/C slipped into the car, eagerly waiting for the car to heat up as the two sat there.

“So Y/N,” Phil began, sliding his phone into the holder as he turned to her. “Is everything alright?” He asked, a genuinely curious look in his eyes as he looked at her expectantly. She took a breath, a beat of silence embracing the inside the car as the vents started whirring out warm air. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N assured, hugging the F/C backpack close to her chest after she clicked her seatbelt on. “A little tired, that’s all.” 

Phil tightened his lips slightly as he started to back up, pulling out of the driveway and onto the main road, his usual mix of Lofi HipHop absent. “You sure, mate? The situation during last night’s dinner was intense,” Phil prodded, eyes never leaving the road as he coasted along the street. “I said I was fine,” Y/N grumbled, a flash of panic jolting through her body as she mentally cursed herself at the rudeness. Any second now the yelling was going to start. Phil sighed, the soft Lofi HipHop finally moving through the air as his Spotify finally loaded. “If you’re so sure,” Phil stated, the rest of the car ride silent, save for the quiet curses Phil let out whenever someone cut him off.

Y/N was confused, voices dancing off the interior of her skull as she questioned the man’s actions. No yelling? No hits? Her thoughts raced a mile a second, jeering at herself for all the stupid mistakes she made, each harmful phrase causing her to cave in a little more internally on herself. ‘Since when was she this stupid?’ the thoughts questioned, circling around her head like numbers always seemed to do. ‘Since she was born, obviously!’ They answered, making her sight go slightly fuzzy from the intensity of the thoughts. God, her head hurt.

Phil seemed to notice her internal panic, opting to distract her with harmless banter and questions, like ‘Are you excited for school?’ and ‘What’s your favorite subject?’, all welcome distractions in her book. Yes, she realized that she was afraid of him, but it wouldn’t hurt to get buddy-buddy with him, right? Y/N just hoped that it wouldn’t come to bite her in the ass later.

The two eventually pulled up to the school, kids in similar uniforms entering the building to shield themselves from the frosty air. Phil parked the car in the visitor’s section, waiting for Y/N to exit the car before leading her inside the two-story building. The two entered the office, the chatter of friendly attendants floating through the air before an elderly attendant at the front counter took notice of the pair.

“Yes, how may I help the two of you?” The woman asked, eyes crinkling as she smiled at the two. “My foster daughter is here to pick up her schedule,” Phil answered, the secretary giving an ‘Oh!’ as she started typing rapidly on her computer as she asked for Y/N’s basic information. After printing out her schedule and handing it to her, she had Y/N sit on one of the ugly blue chairs in the office, and sent Phil off, the man in question giving a wave to Y/N as he exited the building. The receptionist, who Y/N soon learned was named Mrs.Garcia, assured Y/N that a student leader named Clay would come and show her around the school.

The ticks of the clock on the wall behind her droned on, the chatter of teachers and office runners flowing in and out of the office. Y/N lazily kicked her feet, waiting for Clay to show up and get her away from these adults. Around five minutes after Y/N had received her schedule, a tall blond boy stalked in the room, looking towards Mrs.Garcia as she pointed towards Y/N. He gave a friendly wave and smile, motioning for Y/N to follow him out of the office. Once the glass door was closed, the boy started talking.

“Hey what’s up! I’m Clay, but you can call me Dream,” The boy introduced himself, walking fast through the hallway as Y/N followed closely behind him. “I’m Y/N,” The girl mumbled, already wanting to get away from this peppy bitch. “Nice to meet you Y/N, welcome to Elliot High School!”

Jesus, she already hated this.

\---

After a tour that took up half of the first period, most of the time being eaten up by Dream passing and greeting a seemingly never-ending stream of friends, the two finally ended in front of her first-period math class, something Dream seemed to cringe at. “Well, if you need anything, you can always find me or one of the other student leaders, and we’ll try to help you in any way we can!” Dream concluded the tour, knocking on the wooden door enthusiastically.

He handed Y/N off to the grumpy math teacher that opened the door, Y/N being prompted to sit in the back row next to a familiar mop of brown hair, that wasn’t covered by the usual red beanie.

He wanted her to sit next to Wilbur. The veins in Wilbur’s head seemed to be popping out of his head, fists clenched white as she slammed into the desk next to him. Y/N, who was equally irked and peeling at the skin near her nails again, elected to ignore the heated glares he was giving her, choosing to focus on the graphs on the board, numbers quickly becoming jumbled as she started to copy notes in her journal. 

A note was slid under her journal, Wilbur pretending to focus on the lesson as she quietly peeled open the paper. In neat handwriting, ‘Go back to foster care, pissbaby!’ was sprawled across it. Y/N tightened her jaw as she finished reading it. Really, this mother fucker was one to talk? And to think she thought he was more mature to not pass notes during the middle of class. She scribbled ‘should have done the same when you were 12’ below the tall lettering, slyly sliding it beneath his journal below turning back to the board.

She heard a sharp gasp from her right, the bell ringing before he could make a retort. She yanked her bag over her shoulder, not bothering to put away her journal or pencils as she speed-walked out of the classroom, bidding a farewell to her teacher before she started weaving between students, wanting to get to Physics in the shortest amount of time possible, a plan already forming in her mind for when lunchtime would roll around.

\---

When the 12:50 lunch bell rang, Y/N found herself in the mess of students heading to the cafeteria, eager for something to fill her now empty stomach. For her plan to work, she would need to eat at least a granola bar, thankful that Phil had already filled her lunch account with money. After grabbing a small lunch, consisting of water, a sandwich, a granola bar, and a hard-boiled egg, she scanned the cafeteria for a place to sit. She saw Tommy, but any hope she had was squished when she saw how full his table was, loud laughs coming from everyone. 

She didn’t see Techno, nor the really tall twiggy boy with half white half black hair she managed to get to know when in her English class. She wasn’t about to find Dream, a dorky move that would probably get her bullied for the rest of her high school career. Y/N figured it wouldn’t be  _ too _ big of a deal if she stashed her lunch in her bag, except for the egg. No, she would need the egg for the plan.

Thankful for the plastic container containing her food, she crossed the cafeteria, opening the door to the outside patio. She quickly glanced around, finding that sitting 50ft to the left of the door were Techno and Wilbur, deep in conversation. She saw the black and white-haired kid next to Techno, his name always escaping her mind, seemingly relaxed, and laughing along to a joke Techno told. Wilbur had his back to her, guitar case, and bag at his sides on the floor. Perfect.

Y/N looked towards the fence that sat a good 200 yards away from her, the only thing separating the two a football field, and a few boys playing a light game of catch, one of the boys she recognized as Dream. With a sprinting start, Y/N ran to Wilbur, egg in the palm of her hand, bag smacking against her back. “Hey, shitass!” She yelled when she was 5 feet away, Wilbur barely having time to fully turn before his face was smacked with the egg, getting over his uniform.

Before he could fully get out of his seat and run after her, she had already taken off towards the fence, Techno shouting ‘Heh?!’ at the impact the egg had with Wilbur’s face. Y/n had to admit, it felt good, getting egg all over his uniform after outing her for wetting the bed to everyone last night. “Y/N!” Wilbur angrily shouted from behind her, getting trapped behind a group of kids as she made her way onto the football field, dodging a tanned black haired kid shortly after he threw the football.

“Dream!” Y/N could hear Techno holler as she shoved past the man in question, quickly gaining on the fence. Adrenaline pumped in her arteries, a wide, crazed smile on her face as she made it past the halfway point of the field. Voices screamed in her head, applauding the egg dunk, and in a cocky move, she looked back to see how much distance she had on Wilbur, only to pale. Dream was now chasing after her, and  _ holy shit he was fast-. _

She urged her legs to go faster, to get close enough to the tall fence she saw the blond mention on the tour and thought about how easy it would be to climb it. The wind stung her lungs, the overcast day providing the perfect shade for her escape. Yes, this was it! Y/N was so close to freedom! She would prove that she was a flight risk, Techno couldn’t stop her! She was the greatest bitch alive!-

A large force collided with her back, and she heard herself screech, being launched to the floor like a ragdoll as the mass that tackled her now pinned her hands behind her back her entire upper body squished against the dry dirt. “What the fuck?!” She yelled, seeing her bag laying to her right as she squirmed and kicked under Dream. “Yeah, what the fuck?! I thought I was a good tour guide!” Dream quipped back, his knee digging into her back. “And to think you wouldn’t be as fucking dumb as Tommy.” 

Damnit, she hated being called dumb! She wasn’t dumb, she was  _ inventive _ ! She could outsmart people three times her age, she was better at Sudoku than her fucking caseworker! She wasn’t dumb! She wasn’t dumb! She wasn’t fucking dumb she wasn’t! (God Phil was going to be pissed) She was the best person around! (Wilbur probably didn’t deserve an egg to the face) She didn’t need nor want to be in the foster care system. (She didn’t need a demerit on her first day of school) Would he just lessen the pressure of his knee?-

“Hey! Come back.” Someone snapped their fingers in front of her face, snapping her out of her head. The black-haired boy was squatting in front of her, a slightly playful smirk on his face. “Damn, I thought you were gonna give Dream a run for his money.” He commented, a noise of disagreement coming from on top of her. “Shut the fuck up, Sapnap.” Dream groaned, getting up from Y/N’s back, only to pull her up into a sitting position, facing the school courtyard. “You gonna fucking run off again?” Dream asked, a semi playful tone to his voice as he sat next to her.

“Nah, I’m good bro. In fact, I think I’m gonna go back to the cafeteria.” The girl announced, going to stand before Dream and Sapnap pulled her back down by her shoulders, the girl giving a sound of displeasure as her ass planted in the grass. “Hey, what gives?” She asked, annoyance written all over her face.

“Hey Sapnap, I was thinking of eating lunch right here, what do you think?” Dream ignored her, Sapnap quickly agreeing to the idea. “Hey Y/N wanna sit with us?” Sapnap asked, seemingly to be texting on his phone. Before Y/N could flat out refuse, Dream had butted in with a high pitched voice. “Of course I’d love to sit with you guys!” Dream croaked, his voice cracking at how high he was speaking. Sapnap cracked up at this, snorting as he waved over two people, one in a black and red jacket, the other with clout glasses on.

From the end of lunch, until she was safely in Techno’s car where she couldn’t run, one of the guys would always find their way to Y/N before she could get more than 5 feet away from the door, sticking around and talking with her until she passed through the door of the classroom. At the end of the day, she found herself squished between all four boys, Sapnap and the clout goggles boy, George, on her left, and Dream and the jacket kid, Bad, on her right. They never left her side until she was in Techno’s care, giving little waves to his Toyota as they pulled away from the school. 

The entire ride home was silent, except for the occasional gasp from Tommy as he played Minecraft next to her on his phone. Y/N was nervously bouncing her leg, the erratic thoughts plaguing her head as they drove, increasing tenfold once she saw Phil standing on the front porch, arms crossed and tapping his foot.

Y/N was so fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Sorry about the inactivity, was doing some school work and I couldn't find a good way to start the chapter lmao.  
> As always, kudos are appreciated and comments feed my ego.  
> (also thank you to the people that informed that there is a difference between / and & when tagging, legit thought they could be used interchangeably)  
> Word Count: 3.3k


	4. Grandfather Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontations are always a little bit worrisome, in her book.

The old grandfather clock no longer made 10 consecutive ticks in a row, Y/N realized. It would tick normally, and between the 3rd and 10th tick, it would remain silent, causing a buzz to form through the air. After it failed to click, it would continue, like nothing happened, perfectly content with its unsentient life, with one job and one purpose.

How Y/N wished she was the grandfather clock. She could forget about the expectant stare Phil was giving her across the living room, ignore the light steps of one of the three boys upstairs, and live a simple life. After the four had arrived home, a glaring Phil greeting Wilbur and Y/N especially, he had sent Wilbur to shower, in hopes of removing the sticky yolk of the egg, and Tommy and Techno to their respective rooms. Y/N had tried to quietly tag along with the latter but was stopped by Phil saying “I don’t think so,” and a sharp point towards the living room.

Y/N respected Phil as much as the next person, but she found the sleeves of her jumper much more interesting than the blond man. Yeah, the man gave her food, a place to sleep, and school supplies, but she wasn’t about to thank him. It was the least he could do. It was the bare minimum, and she wasn’t about to go on her knees, begging him for forgiveness, or to fucking  _ pray _ , as one of her previous houses did. 

“So,” The man began after a few minutes of silence. “You wanna explain why Wilbur called me during his lunch, complaining how you smashed an undercooked boiled egg into his hair, leading to you being tackled by Dream?” He asked, a pointed stare in her direction. She slightly smirked, hoping to ward away the anxiety that was pinching at her nerves. “Well, I’m glad he didn’t leave out the undercooked part. Made sure it was nice and juicy for his hair, heard it helps with getting oil out of it.” She commented, receiving an expected sigh from the man across from her.

“Can you tell me why you attacked him? I didn’t exactly believe him when he said it was ‘completely random’,” Phil asked, finger quoting what Wilbur had cried to Phil over the phone. She let out a snort at the new information. “He passed a note to me during class that said ‘Go back to foster care, pissbaby!’” She answered, lowering her voice to mimic Wilbur’s. “At least I have the decency to admit that I wrote that he shoulda done the same when he was 12,” 

“That still doesn’t mean you can hit them with an egg! Or hit them in general!” Phil sounded frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose. Y/N felt an uncomfortable feeling settle in her stomach, hotness spreading to the nape of her neck. She was unfamiliar with it, something that put her even more on edge, the small pinches now feeling like stabs. There was no way Y/N was feeling guilt, the dude had it coming for a long time! Yet the seeds of self-doubt that sprung up when she was pinned by Dream resurfaced, making her further doubt her judgment.

“Y/N,” Phil snapped her out of her haze, her head snapping the man. “I’m not mad, you know?” He asked, leaning forward slightly as he rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m just confused, and a little disappointed.” That feeling that was in her stomach spread to her legs, causing them to bounce as the flush spread to her jaw. Her nails lightly scratched at her knuckles, hoping to edge away some of the internal conflicts.

Y/N didn’t like this new feeling.

“I’m not surprised, everyone’s always disappointed with me,” Y/N said, hoping an attitude would make the pain lessen. When Phil made eye contact with her, however, she was surprised to find something other than anger. She found sadness, desperation, pleading, everything besides the screaming man from the night before. Why was he so insistent on trying to be the good guy in her life? Y/N had gone her entire life being her own good guy, her own hero in her story, she didn’t need some random guy butting in! But why did she feel so bad?

Phil deeply sighed, releasing some of the pressure Y/N could only assume being from his shoulders, watching as they deflated. “I’m not getting anything out of you today, am I?” Y/N gave a short nod, refusing to say anything more to the man. “Can you at least say sorry to Wilbur for dunking him with an egg? I can get him to say sorry about the note and last night’s incident,” Phil offered. Y/N thought for a second, slightly biting her bottom lip, before agreeing to his proposal. Hey, if she can get out of this without talking about her feelings, she’ll fucking do it.

Phil called Wilbur downstairs and gestured for Y/N to stand from her spot on the couch as Phil trotted down the stairs, waltzing into the living room. Wilbur stood across from Y/N, and Phil to her left, acting as a moderator in case things went wrong. “Wil?” Phil asked expectantly. “Sorry about the note and last night.” He mumbled, Phil, seeming pleased with his apology. Before Phil could prompt her to, Y/N already spoke up. “Sorry about the egg,” Phil stared at her, looking like he was expecting something else. Oh, that.

“And about last night,” She sighed, slouching slightly. “Cool,” Phil began, straightening up slightly. “Shake hands,” She turned to glare at the man, who gave her an innocent smile. “I don’t remember agreeing with THAT,” She commented, keeping her arms crossed and to her chest. “Oh just shake my hand and get this over with,” Wilbur harshly demanded, right arm already outstretched. Y/N rolled her eyes, and clasped his hand with hers, noting how rough his fingers felt before giving a tense shake.

“Alright, you can go. Wilbur, if you wouldn’t mind?” Phil asked, gesturing to the couch behind him as Y/N bolted up the stairs, eager to get out of the room. “By the way, we’re having chicken tonight!” Phil called after her, only getting a response of feet thudding on wood from the running girl. She sprinted to her room, practically throwing herself on the bed after she closed the door, her blanket slightly cushioning her fall. She grabbed it, balling it up in her hands as she pushed her face into the cotton, and screaming.

“Me too, bitch,” 

She yelped at the new voice, sitting up from her prone position, only to see Tommy sitting in the desk chair. “How the fuck did I not see you?” She asked, swinging her body so that her legs hung off the edge of the bed. Tommy shrugged his shoulders, feet propped up on the desk as he absentmindedly played with his phone. “Anyways, what do you want?” She grumbled, grabbing binders out of her bag to begin the tedious amount of homework her teachers had graciously given out on her first day. “I dunno, just wanted to bug you,” Tommy said, taking a second to glance up from his phone to watch the girl meticulously writing on a worksheet. “Oh don’t tell me you’re a nerd like Techno,”

Without pausing her writing, Y/N made direct eye contact with Tommy, a blank stare on her face. “That’s a little sexist, don’t you think?” She sweetly asked, looking back down as Tommy began to stutter. “I am NOT being sexist!” He yelled, banging his fist hard enough against the desk to shake the lamp and stationary stand. The door creaked open, revealing a worn-out Techno with reading glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, a bored look on his face. “So, having a fun bathroom break?” He asked. Not wanting to listen to Tommy stuttering out a sentence, Techno grabbed Tommy, hauling him up on his feet and dragging him out of the room. “Well, ya see Blade, I was talking to my dear old friend Big F/I,” Tommy rambled, the noise getting quieter after Techno closed the door after them. Y/N found herself staring down at her paper, trying to focus on the newly blurring words.

Did she always feel this cold?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late and small update. Just didn't know how to properly time skip for this chapter, so I made it short. As always, kudos and comments feed my ego, and shout out to my friends cece and josh for being my beta readers!
> 
> Word Count: 1.4k


	5. Beanies, horns, and Monopoly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N might have some new friends? But can this stability last?

Y/N was always a clock watcher, especially during nerve-wracking events. While waiting for Phil to pick her up from the social worker’s office, Y/N estimated she checked the clock every minute. When her old foster parents would force her into hour-long punishments, the clocks on the wall became her best friend. And especially when she met new people, her first few interactions would consist of the other person doing all the talking, and Y/N glancing to the nearest L.E.D numbers.

So when Y/N was adopted by a group of Sophomores and Juniors, she began to practically sit on the damn things.

The interactions had started small and in her 5th-period study hall. After the study hall teacher took attendance, this loud ass beanie-wearing kid named Quackity would make a beeline to her seat, and talk her ear off the entire class; making jokes, loudly cackling at any remark she made, and becoming a distant heater in the bone-chilling room. It wasn’t like Y/N minded too much, as the boy would prove to be a wonderful distraction, seeing as she would spend her study hall playing on her phone, homework already finished from the previous night.

But instead of darting out of the room like normal, once the lunch bell rang, he hung behind, waiting for Y/N to pack her bag, before extending an invite for her to join him and his friends at his lunch table. “You don’t happen to sit with Dream or Wilbur, right?” She asked, already being led out of the room with Quackity’s arm slung around her shoulders. “Because I’m gettin’ sick and tired of those two.”

“Of course! It’s just gonna be us, Schlatt, Minx, and Niki!” Quackity reassured, a bright smile on his face as the two weaved between groups of students, athletes, and nerds. “You’re especially gonna like Minx if you’re sick of Dream and Wilbur.” Y/N held her chin in her hand, making a thinking sound before reluctantly agreeing. She was getting tired of sitting in the choir room, or in a secluded hallway for the lunch period, reading whatever book she managed to snag from the library in the 5 minutes before class began, always cutting it close due to Techno’s insistence on speedrunning it to school.

After the two picked up their C-tier school lunches, Y/N followed behind Quackity closely, hoping not to lose the kid in the school crowd, before the two ended up at a table, already filled with the kids Quackity mentioned would be there. 

“Oh hello there!” One girl softly introduced, immediately grabbing the attention of the other kids as Quackity and Y/N sat down, bags slung between their legs. Y/N recognized her as Niki, one of Wilbur’s friends, and was platonic soulmates with him, according to Techno during one of their midnight drink sessions. From what he said, she was supposed to be pretty nice, and a decent artist. So then, by process of elimination…

“Who’s the poodle following you around Quackity?” The girl next to Niki asked, sipping on a Monster, who Y/N could only assume was Minx, the loudest, most rambunctious Irish girl in the entire school. She was on Y/N’s ‘Meet ASAP’ list. Granted, she was the only person on the list, but still. “I’m Y/N.” The girl halfheartedly said, head propped up in her hands. 

“Unless you’re stupid, I’m gonna assume you know who the broad and chick are, so here’s the best for last. I’m Schlatt.” Schlatt greeted, flipping a golden coin in his hand as he was shoved in the ribs by Minx, already arguing heavily about the introduction. “It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N,” Niki commented, pulling Y/N’s attention away from the bickering children and laughing Quackity. “You as well,” Y/N said, an awkward smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

For the rest of the 45 minute lunch period, it consisted mainly of Minx and Schlatt arguing, and trying their best to pull Y/N into it, the plan always being thwarted by Niki or Quackity. “Don’t scare her off, dumbass!” Quackity would scold, lightly smacking Schlatt when he tried to get Y/N into an argument about height. “Y/N doesn’t need to disappear just yet,” Niki would chime, putting a gentle hand on Minx’s shoulder, immediately relaxing the tension in the Irish girl’s shoulders.

The little jabs for attention left Y/N’s ears buzzing, and the laughing of the other four contributed to a small headache.

\---

Everyone in the group was unique in their way, each holding a different personality. However, it would seem that this balance of chaos, jokes, and supervision was the perfect balance for a friendship group, and Y/N felt herself slowly worming her way into it.

Niki was the moderator of the group. Every day, even if she was participating in the joking around and play fights, she always made sure that everyone was feeling in tip-top shape. Another delightful fact about Niki that everyone elected to not tell Y/N, was that every Wednesday, she brought in little treats for the group, and to sell at the school. The first Wednesday Y/N was apart of, Niki had gifted her a sugar cookie shaped like a pumpkin, a drawing of a jack-o-lantern on it to celebrate Halloween. The thought alone made a small smile peek out from the straight-faced facade Y/N usually held, and the taste of the cookie was ten times better. Y/N decided she liked Niki.

Schlatt was the most tolerable out of the boys. He didn’t randomly begin to laugh during moments of tense silence, and Y/N found that he was a great contender in staring contests, frequently getting into minute-long stares with Y/N before it was broken up by Quackity blowing air in one of their eyes. But despite the bad temper and the creepy staring, she thought Schlatt wasn’t too bad. If Wilbur was feeling particularly bitchy towards Y/N one day and would shove her in the hallway between classes, Schlatt was always there to shove him back. “C’mon, don’t shove the broad!” Schlatt would yell to Wilbur after he shoved him back, Wilbur sneaking away back into the crowd.

Minx was  _ loud _ , the girl discovered, but quickly realized it wasn’t unwelcomed. While Y/N could easily hold her ground in a fight, having many scars to prove that, Minx had spidey senses when it came to fights, and just before Y/N or whoever pissed her off would begin to exchange blows, Minx would always end up scaring off whoever was offending Y/N. While the first few times greatly peeved Y/N (“Why couldn’t you just let me fight the bastard?!”), Minx would always make it up to her somehow, either by getting her answers to a homework problem she was having trouble on or just lovingly teasing her (“I’m not gonna let a shrimp get into a fight with a senior!”).

Quackity was Quackity, enough said.

Y/N, as much as she hated to admit it, had grown close to the group of outcasts. She had grown to appreciate the small pats on the shoulder Niki would give her, and the jokes Quackity would tell when things started to get stale. Minx was her hype woman, and Schlatt her go-to advice seeker. The rocky slope she had faced in her impromptu move across the city had slowly begun to stabilize, being held up by her newfound friends. Hell, there would be times where Y/N would practically skip to the classes with her friends, and the insults Wilbur would hurl at her seemed to sting a little less.

But good things don’t always last. She learned that lesson long ago.

\---

The first time Y/N truly thought she was going to lose her friends and her new life for that matter, was when she had enough of Wilbur and fought back.

It was Thursday night of her first week at Phil’s, and family night. They would all report home by 6 p.m, ideally, homework is done, and no office work has trailed behind Phil. They would order takeaway, and it was Tommy’s turn, who chose pizza in true teenager fashion. They had taken over the living room, a stark contrast from how family night dinners usually went at other houses, and eat their meals on paper plates, and would play a game. They had all agreed on Monopoly, a game Y/N truly enjoyed and was decent at, and within five minutes, everyone was fiercely competitive. 

Y/N had a comfortable lead on everyone, collecting funds left and right from the various properties she owned from luck and sketchy deals between her and Tommy. Everyone was losing money fast, especially Wilbur, for he always managed to land on Y/N’s properties. With Y/N smirking, hand already outstretched, and properties maxed out, Wilbur would never leave her properties without forking over at least $600. Tommy would loudly cackle at the bills being slapped into her hand, watching the various piles of colorful money growing around her. Phil and Techno would join in with a chorus of ‘ooohhh’s’ every so often, and Wilbur’s frown grew more and more as the night went on.

“Hey, you gotta grow up in the game, to play the game. Am I right?” Y/N asked after a particularly heavy streak of losses from Wilbur, receiving a high five from Tommy in the process. Wilbur’s knees were bouncing, eyes downcast to the board. Y/N had been feeling brave these past few days, so why not test out her luck a little?

“Awww, you sad capitalism is fucking you right now?” She teased, watching Wilbur’s hands clench and unclench tightly. “While I may be a ruthless landlord, I can assist. Maybe a loan, 4% interest for every turn you go without paying me?” Y/N sweetly asked, feeling a rush from getting back at Wilbur for all the times he had been a shit head to her.

“Shut the fuck up.” He growled, head snapping up, pupils shrinking.

It happened in a flash. Wilbur had dived over the board, straight onto Y/N. Y/N’s eyes were wide, fist already wound back and launching into Wilbur’s sorry face. He turned, his right cheek catching the blow, bright red from how hard Y/N had punched. Techno couldn’t get to the two in time, and in slow motion, Wilbur swung at Y/N’s head, fist aimed at the bridge of her nose and her forehead.

Her head snapped back, eyes rolling into the back of her head. Everything was bright and loud. Y/N’s head swam with colors and sounds, clouding her already blurring vision. Y/N heard Tommy scream, and the weight on her body was thrown off of her. The light of the fan of the living room didn’t help and caused the ringing in her ears to become louder and louder, so loud that she couldn’t help but grab her ears with her hands. Something wet was trailing down her face, the sensation overwhelming. 

Her shoulders were shaking, her eyes tensed up and closed tightly- when had they closed in the first place? The pit in her stomach had grown to the back of her throat, threatening to expel the contents of her dinner from sensory overload. God damn, a nap sounded good right about now.

Her ears full of cotton, her tongue feeling heavy, she slowly slipped off, the shaking of her shoulders never stopped after her body had completely relaxed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha suckers, i LIED, yall are gettin more today
> 
> Word Count: 2k


	6. The Ballad of Wilbur and Y/N (Interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title based off of Grandson's "The Ballad of G and X" (seriously stream Death of an Optimist, it is so good!)

Wilbur was 9 when he got placed in the foster care system. He remembers the night they took him too clearly, filled with hateful eyes, sharp words, and even sharper strikes. What he has frequent nightmares about though, was the way his mother looked at him when social services took him away; it was remorseful. Even after yelling at him, and scratching at any exposed skin she could if he flinched away from her spit-splattering words, she looked at him with sorrowful eyes, watching solemnly as the car drove away.

Y/N looked exactly like his mother.

Sure, it was no secret that his mother wasn’t his real mom, the two didn’t look alike. He towered over her by the time he left with social services, and their faces weren’t the same, but regardless he still loved her. Seeing Y/N come down the stairs the first morning she was at their home, after waking in the middle of the night to a loud bang and cries, sent him into an internal panic attack. 

Now here they were; his own brother’s arms hooked around his armpits, yanking him off Y/N as she stared blankly at the ceiling, eyes wide and nose bloody. Tommy looked shocked, trying to sputter out a sentence as his Dad was looking over Y/N, shaking her shoulders as she gripped her own ears, slowly slipping backward and backward until her blank stare turned into resting eyes. 

“Tommy, get rags and water, Techno get the first aid kit!” His father ordered, watching the two scramble as he looked at his oldest child, who was staring horrified at the two of them. “Wilbur, just sit on the fucking couch, we’ll talk later,” He meekly complied, sinking deeply into the couch as the other two came back with the much-needed supplies, Dad sending them to sit next to Wilbur once they had completed their tasks.

Wilbur was staring into his clenched fists, mind stuck playing a memory that stuck with him throughout the years; the first time his mother almost OD’ed. He could remember it very clearly. He had walked out into the living room when he was six, tightly clenching his stomach that cramped with hunger, a hunger that would eventually lead to his peakiness, something his grandmother always commented on every time he was sent there for a week, or a month. He peered over the couch and saw his mother sprawled out on the carpet, needle in hand and body illuminated by the sitcom that was playing. He had started to shake her, crying when she wouldn’t respond, the sounds only louder than his whimpers being the laugh track. She didn’t move for two days, waking up in a miracle-like fashion, and called his grandma to pick him up for the week.

His mother caused her condition.  _ He  _ caused Y/N’s condition. The guilt ate him alive, gnawing at his innards, similar to the childhood hunger he experienced. There was a hole in his mind, one caused by the OD, the fostering, the new addition to his family. Wilbur almost laughed at that last thought, stifling a banshee laugh when he remembered the presence of his beefy brother, loud mouth Tommy, and an angry father treating his knocked-out foster daughter. God, Wilbur fucked up  _ bad _ , he finally realized, a week of building up tension finally releasing, exposing the years of trauma hidden behind beanies and acoustic guitars.

He hoped that he could be forgiven.

\---

The living room now laid in near darkness, Y/N now on the couch. Dad and Techno had moved her, hoping that the change in comfort wouldn’t cause a sore back, something that wouldn’t help the inevitable headache and aching nose she would wake up to. As soon as the former got her settled, a pillow beneath her head and neck, and Techno watching her in case she woke up, he pointed at Wilbur and gestured upstairs. “You, me, upstairs,  _ now _ ,” His voice left no room for argument, quickly following behind Wilbur as the two traversed into his slightly cluttered room, shutting the door and telling Wilbur to sit on his bed.

His dad now sat across from him, arms folded and looking expectantly at the slouched figure at his son. Wilbur was always the first to crack under pressure. He opened his mouth to begin spewing apologies. “I’m gonna stop you right there, mate,” His dad interrupted, watching his oldest son’s mouth immediately close. “I’m not the one that was fucking knocked out tonight,” Dad looked mad, Wilbur noticed, his eyes narrowed at Wilbur. “I want an explanation on why you are so adamant on hurting Y/N,  _ now _ ,”

Wilbur’s entire body shuddered, tears already flowing down his cheeks. He had lost a battle he had tried desperately to win, the prize being the secrecy of his before, before the Crafts, before the foster homes, before the painfully sorrowful eyes his probably dead mother gave to him as he unknowingly waved goodbye for the last time. So he spilled. He lamented about the multiple times his mother OD’ed, the countless nights he spent in crumpled hunger, the way Y/N reminded him so much of his mother, the same spitfire and slow to warm up nature she possessed. 

His father sat there and just listened, an attribute Wilbur greatly appreciated at times like these, where he could ramble on and on about his woes, and would not be surprised by an interruption. He had nodded along, eyes full of curiosity, and understanding. And after his 30-minute tangent, Wilbur standing and panting heavily from his deep expression of struggle, practically sobbing at this point. “I don’t hate her dad,” He cried, his father rushing to hug his son tight. “I just hate how she reminds me so much of her,” His voice was muffled in his dad’s shirt, tears already beginning to soak the green material.

“Wil, thank you for telling me that, it must have been hard to share that,” His dad said, stroking the young boy’s hair as he swayed back and forth, a habit he picked up from when his mother would comfort him as a child. “I’m proud of you, but you have to promise me something Wil,” He gently picked up Wilbur’s head, putting his tear-stained cheeks in his palms as he wiped away the remnants with his thumbs. “You have to promise to try and be better as a brother, and you have to apologize to Y/N once she wakes up, alright?” He asked, Wilbur taking a beat to nod. “Attaboy,” His dad smiled, bringing him into a pine tree-scented hug as they stood in Wil’s room, an old bond severed, and two new ones created.

Wilbur would no longer look at the birds flying high, and cry ‘Why can’t I?’, for he could now soar with the sparrows. With a now closely bonded family.

And a newly added sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck, sorry about the late, short, and low quality chapter. I felt bad that I didn't post anything, so I figured why not throw out a bone for y'all.  
> Be on the lookout for other stories in the series tho! I am planning on posting some shorter one-shotesque stories, that mainly deal with little events here and there, like birthdays, celebrations, that sorta thing. Hell, might even do a short story on this plot, but only in the DSMP universe, so be on the lookout for that.  
> As always, kudos and comments feed my ego.  
> Word Count: 1.1k

**Author's Note:**

> And Chapter 1 is finished! How'd yall like it? Comments are always welcomed, they feed my ego.
> 
> Word Count: 4.2k


End file.
